To Hope for a Lapse in Insanity
by ToxicStar
Summary: The sequel to 'To Corrupt a Fragile Psyche.' Sort of a deathfic. OLD FIC.


**Disclaimer**: Silent Hill and all its characters belong to Konami, and I earn nothing from this fanfic.

**Pairing**: Walter x Henry

**A/N**: Sequel to Corrupt a Fragile Psyche, and by no means the last installment. As said in the Y!gallery description, it's a little more angsty than the prequel- but I'm just trying to keep the plot believable, here.

P.S: The ending is supposed to be sweet! ...ish. XD;

-Toxic-Star x

-/-

**To Hope for a Lapse in Insanity**

-/-

Henry watched as rain began to fall and splatter against the window.

Normally he was soothed by such a sound, the feeling of being securely indoors while it poured down outside.

But today he found no solace at all in the gloomy weather.

Eileen had run off somewhere, claiming she needed to help 'that little boy,' also known as Young Walter. Didn't she realise? The boy couldn't be saved. His alter ego was the one in control, not the child. Still, she had gone anyway, leaving Henry alone again.

He had retreated back to room 302, and had been sitting by the window for an insurmountable amount of time, now.

All he could think about was Walter Sullivan.

Even before their recent 'encounter,' he had been preoccupied with thoughts of the killer and how to stop him, with the occasional unrealistic fantasy stealing in. Now, though, he was stricken with trying to conjure up ideas on how to stop him **peacefully**… if that was even possible.

The problem was, he cared for the man. He pitied him, always had done, and wished he could give him a chance at a normal life. But Walter was beyond his influence, wasn't he? Too obsessed with seeing his 'mother', to let anyone sway him from his goal.

If only he could make him understand that the thing he was trying to revive was **not** his mother, was probably not even maternal in the slightest… but he knew his words would be wasted.

Henry sighed, the sound echoing loudly in the painfully quiet room. The rain grew heavier, only increasing his unease.

He jumped when the phone rang, silently cursing his nerves. He had reason to be nervous, he supposed, when the phone-calls in this cursed apartment only led to ominous things.

The troubled young man cautiously stepped over to the shrilly ringing telephone and picked up the receiver. He hesitated. "…Hello?"

"Are you hiding from me, Henry?" came a familiar voice.

"No," Henry replied immediately, his expression becoming sorrowful.

"Then where are you? You should be here. With me."

"Why? So you can put an end to my joke of a life?" Henry said bitterly.

There was a short silence, then. "Fine. I'll come to you."

Henry swallowed. He parted his lips to respond, but the line went dead. "Walter…? Walter?" he called, before hanging up with a frown.

_Great_…_ is this it, then? I can't even save myself, never mind Eileen… what am I supposed to do? I can't kill him. Even if I knew how, I doubt I could do it, not anymore… God help me._ Henry left his bedroom and padded into the living room, rubbing his face wearily as he sat in the armchair.

He glanced at a flickering candle on the table to his left, knowing fine well that it would do nothing to repel Walter. His gaze then came to rest on the revolver next to it, and he shook his head with another sigh.

He couldn't point a gun at Walter, not anymore.

Henry didn't lift his head or even look up when he heard footsteps coming along the hallway and into the living room. When they stopped, he took a deep breath and tilted his head up, hands draped loosely over his knees.

Walter gazed at him serenely, holding a pistol in his right hand.

Henry gazed back, his eyes sad.

The blonde man wordlessly put the gun on top of the kitchen counter, never taking his eyes off the Receiver of Wisdom.

The silence was becoming unbearable to Henry. "You're not going to use that? Is it too merciful for me?"

Walter walked closer, shaking his head as if denying something to himself. He crouched down in front of Henry, peering up at him with hazy green eyes. "What am I going to do with you, Henry?"

"I can't be the one to decide that."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I **can't**!" Henry shouted, showing signs of his seldom-seen temper. "You got me into this mess, **you **deal with the outcome!"

He regretted his yelling immediately, noting how Walter flinched slightly, before averting his eyes.

Henry softened. "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

Walter's smile returned, not reaching his eyes, as if it ever did.

"You must despise me, Henry."

Henry's dark eyebrows dipped. "I don't."

"You don't?"

"No," Henry affirmed, not leaning back when Walter edged closer, or recoiling when the other man's hands slid over his knees and up his thighs. While he was fairly certain that he should protest, telling Walter not to do this again, he found that he couldn't, only wanting to feel the touch he'd been thinking about ever since the first time.

Walter had a strange, almost adoring look on his unkempt face. "That's why you're different. That's why I saved you 'til last," he lowered his head to press a chaste kiss to the back of Henry's hand, "You should hate me."

Henry watched Walter's reverent gesture with a lacklustre gaze. "I'm not that kind of person," he said helplessly. He gasped sharply when a knife was suddenly pressed against his stomach.

Walter locked eyes with the other male. "I confess, Receiver, that I dislike the thought of marking your precious body."

Henry winced, not liking where this was going. Before he could wrench the blade from him, Walter slapped his hand away.

"Don't move."

The knife slowly moved down, the tip sliding under Henry's shirt and lifting it up. The blonde man blinked, staring at Henry's abdomen.

Something occurred to Henry and he grabbed Walter's shoulder. "Wait… surely the victims have to be in order. You can't kill me yet, unless Eileen dies first…" he paled, "…Oh God, is she-"

"I haven't killed her," Walter said smoothly, still transfixed by the younger man's flat stomach.

"Then… why did you come here…?" Henry said softly, noticing how the knife wasn't inflicting any wounds on him.

Walter's unfocused gaze eventually drifted back up to Henry's face. He said nothing.

Henry waited, breathing anxiously, before gingerly reaching down and wrapping his hand around the wrist that held the knife, gradually and carefully pulling it away. Walter didn't resist, even when the knife was pried from his slack grip and dropped to the floor.

Henry let his breath out again. "Why did you come here?" he asked again.

Walter slowly got to his feet, climbing onto Henry and supporting his weight by leaning on the armrest. He observed the smaller man in silence, licking his lips before speaking. "I want you."

"What…?" Henry murmured, looking up at Walter questioningly.

The murderer smiled again, the expression belying his violent nature. "I **want** you, Henry. Submit to me again."

Henry sighed through his nose. "You're only delaying the inevitable, Walter. What's the use in getting intimate with me at this poi-" his sentence was interrupted when Walter tugged his face closer by the hair and kissed him savagely.

Grunting against the other man's mouth, Henry jerked his head away, panting. "What the hell, Walter…!" The serial killer hadn't been this forceful last time. Something about his actions was becoming more desperate.

Walter took hold of Henry by the waist, shifting him so that he lay across the armchair, legs over one side, head hanging over the other. While his victim was complaining about the position, he sat astride Henry and latched his mouth onto the vulnerable throat, sucking on his adam's apple hungrily.

Henry grunted, unable to lift his head due to the grip on his dark brown hair. "God damn it, Wal… Walt…" he trailed off as the heavier man began to grind their hips together.

Walter smirked, looking uncharacteristically smug. "You want it too."

Henry growled, unable to stop from arching back against the thrusts. "No, not like this, I don't want it…"

Walter snorted in amusement, slipping one hand down to grope Henry's arousal. "You're lying, Henry." Both hands moved around to grasp the smaller man's rear, pulling his hips more firmly against his own. "But I like how shy you are."

Henry groaned, unable to shift the stronger male. His current position left him feeling more vulnerable than when he'd been face-down on the bed. "Enough, I'm not doing this!"

"You are helpless to stop me," Walter replied matter-of-factly, beginning to unfasten Henry's shirt.

Seeing that his vehement protests were doing nothing to dissuade Walter, Henry tried pleading, straining his neck to stare up at his captor. "Walter, please… just let me sit up…"

Walter raised his eyebrows, finishing the removal of Henry's shirt and discarding it. He quickly pulled the t-shirt off before his victim could protest, letting it fall to the floor.

"Walter!" Henry whined, hating how pathetic he sounded, but frantic is his need to gain some control of the situation.

"Sssh," Walter soothed, stroking Henry's cheek and kissing him gently. "Just let me touch you. You liked it, before," he reasoned with the man below him, smiling manically.

Henry didn't bother denying it. He stayed miserably silent.

Content, Walter resumed disrobing Henry, not stopping until the Receiver was stripped naked under his own clothed body.

Henry was well-accustomed to the paralysis that took hold of his body when Walter touched him. His unfocused eyes gazed up at the ceiling without seeing it, no longer even registering this discomfort of his position on the chair.

Evidently, Walter was unsatisfied with his victim's lack of response, and looked up questioningly from where he had been pressing firm kisses to Henry's abdomen.

"Henry… what I enjoy most about this…" he curled one large hand around the other man's arousal, causing a slight groan from him, "is that I am the only one who can make you show emotion," he stroked the length once, twice. "I like seeing your face change. I like hearing the different noises you make. It's all proof that you're mine."

Henry lifted his head to reply, just in time to see his erection disappearing into Walter's mouth. "…God!"

He could feel Walter smiling slightly around his flesh, as if to say, 'Yes, just like that.'

Henry's hands shot down to take hold of the dark blonde hair of their own accord, tugging slightly when the pressure around his shaft increased.

Again, through a haze of pleasure and desire, Henry wondered just how the hell Walter was so talented at intimacy- after all, from what he knew, Walter was not very skilled at dealing with people, had never been. Yet that mouth…

Walter seemed to enjoy his task almost as much as Henry, taking pleasure in the way Henry's hips arched so gracefully in synch with his mouth, the firm stomach clenching under his palm.

He lashed his tongue along the hard length in his mouth, revelling in the breathy moan it evoked.

Judging by the way the younger man's panting was quickening, he was close.

The Receiver of Wisdom's head was tilted back over the armrest, gulping in as much air as his lungs would allow before he clenched his jaw with a moan, spilling down Walter's throat. While he fought to regain his breath, he became aware that Walter was still sucking, and jerked sharply on his hair.

"Stop, that's too much," he uttered weakly.

The murderer lifted his head, looking almost comically disappointed. The disappointment quickly turned into surprise when Henry swiftly got up, grabbed Walter, and sat him down in the chair. He then kneeled in front of the older man, unzipping him with a calm expression on his faintly flushed face.

Walter watched, enraptured, as his victim tugged his waistband down over his hips, before drawing the slightly leaking erection into his mouth. Walter smirked at the way Henry's eyes closed demurely, his hands pinning Walter's hips down as he sucked and licked at the stiff length.

"You please me, Receiver," the killer said simply, eyes glimmering with adoration as he gazed upon his lover.

Henry would have rolled his eyes, had he not been occupied. He did nothing except lick teasingly at Walter's tip, making the man grunt and try to buck his hips.

Henry applied more force to the straining pelvis, before relaxing his gag reflex and swallowing Walter's arousal entirely.

The other man's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, one hand coming down to stroke Henry's cheek, then over his ear and into silky dark hair.

The affectionate gesture made Henry shiver, and he reciprocated by sucking with even more fervour. He was almost caught off-guard when Walter came with a quiet moan, his essence pouring directly down Henry's hot, constricting throat.

The kneeling man swallowed with a slight wince, gently pulling back and wiping a hand down over his mouth. "Walter."

"Henry."

"We can't keep doing this. You know that, right?"

Walter tilted his head, blinking in a cat-like manner. "You worry too much."

"I have the **right** to worry!" Henry spluttered incredulously, rocking back on his heels. "It's my life that's on the line!"

Walter said nothing, his hand returning to Henry's face, running a thumb over the man's lips. "…I like your mouth."

Henry sighed sharply in frustration, batting Walter's hand away. "Don't change the subject." He glared at the other man, trying to maintain eye contact, but in the end, failed. He looked away nervously.

Walter stood up, stripped off his coat and dropped it onto the chair. He leaned over and grasped Henry by the elbows, pulling him gently to his feet. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Henry demanded, even as he let himself be guided towards the bedroom.

"I'm not finished with you," Walter said matter-of-factly, toeing the door open and ushering Henry inside.

Henry sat on the bed with a sigh, watching Walter close the door. Personally, he didn't see the point in the show of privacy. Just who was going to see them?

Walter turned towards his companion once more, pulling his shirt over his head and smiling at Henry. "You look annoyed."

Henry swallowed in spite of himself, gaze roaming over Walter's well-built upper body. He couldn't help himself- it was always a pleasure to his eyes.

Clearly, Walter hadn't been expecting an answer, as he merely went on smiling as he finished undressing. "You might as well make yourself more comfortable, Receiver… I'm going to take my time with you."

-/-

When Henry opened his eyes much later and saw Walter lying next to him, seemingly dozing, his first impulse was to slap himself, positive he was dreaming.

"What are you doing?" came Walter's lucid voice, green eyes now gazing at Henry.

"Nothing…" the younger man mumbled, running a hand over his face.

Walter hadn't stayed last time. It had obviously been too affectionate a gesture for a serial killer, but here was, lying next to him in bed, with one arm slung over his waist.

Henry stared at Walter. He disliked how calm the other man looked, as if he'd arrived at some kind of conclusion inside his warped mind.

He was right.

"I have a solution."

Henry's eyes narrowed warily. "What is it?"

"When the ritual is complete, I will bring you back," he smiled slightly, "We can be together."

Henry's jaw dropped. "Bring me back! What the hell are you saying?" he sat up, glaring bitterly down at Walter. "You're still going to kill me?"

Walter looked upset, as if unsure why his suggestion wasn't a good one. "It will be over very quickly."

"How can you talk about life and death so casually! I'm not sitting around waiting for you to kill me!" Henry yelled, getting out of bed and stomping over to the chest of drawers inside his wardrobe, taking out clean clothes.

Walter sighed patiently, leaning his head on one propped-up arm. "Henry… it has to be this way."

Henry snorted angrily, pulling on a pair of dark blue denims followed by a black button-up shirt. "Shut the hell up."

Walter blinked rapidly, mildly stunned by Henry's temper. "Henry, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Henry spun on his heel and continued glaring, buttoning up his shirt. "All you care about is your stupid ritual. You talk about ending my life like it's nothing, am I supposed to believe you care about me?" he cringed inwardly at how he sounded, whining like a lovesick teenager.

Walter frowned at the 'stupid ritual' part, but it was quickly gone. "I do care about you. Only you and Mother matter to me."

Henry shook his head in disbelief. "And after you bring me back… what then? We just continue as normal, living _happily_ together here, forever?"

"Yes," Walter said, as if it was obvious.

Henry stared at him again. He was silent for a moment, before he said softly, "You ruined my life."

Walter looked away at this.

"I know that deep down, you're still an innocent human… I've seen your younger self. But right now, all I see is a heartless murderer. What makes you think I want to spend forever with you?" Henry continued seriously.

Walter looked over again, smiling. "You're lonely."

Henry frowned. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He looked down at the floor numbly. "This is a nightmare… all of it. I don't want to see anymore. I just want to save Eileen, and… hell, never mind what happens to me, I just need to save **her,**" he made for the bedroom door.

"You won't," Walter said quietly from behind him.

Henry clenched his teeth. "I told you… I won't sit around and wait to die. I can't…" and he headed for the hole in his laundry room wall.

-/-

Wherever Eileen had gone when she had run out of the Superintendent's room earlier, Henry had no idea. He had been looking for her all over the building, calling her name, but found no trace of his neighbour.

The young man stopped to lean against a wall, covering his eyes.

He'd only wanted to save one person, just **one** poor victim, but it looked like he'd failed even that. He was overcome with guilt, feeling impotent and weak at being unable to help a fellow human being. He couldn't even save himself.

It was ironic that Henry had never cared much for other people before all this- not a misanthrope, but not a particularly altruistic person either. He'd never known how alone he really was until now.

He wondered if death was such a terrible thing after all.

Henry spun around in alarm when he heard a door open, and Walter stepped out, pistol back in his hand.

The Assumption turned and saw Henry, taking a step towards him.

Even though Walter didn't look especially murderous in his movements, Henry knew that this was it. The gun wasn't going away, and Walter's face was completely blank save for the ubiquitous smile.

He also knew he should just surrender instead of prolonging the inevitable, drawing out the fear and apprehension he was becoming incredibly tired of, and yet his basic human instincts still commanded him to run. So run he did.

"Henry!" Walter called, his voice accompanied by the sound of his footsteps quickening to match his final victim's.

Henry didn't turn around or slow down, panic seeping into his vision and causing his gaze to blur. His heart drummed erratically in his chest, the hot rush of terror steadily rising into his throat.

He heard the shot but felt nothing, only saw the floor coming up to meet him as he fell towards it rapidly. It felt cool against his face as he lay there, too shocked to sense any pain. He knew Walter had disturbingly good accuracy with a gun, and didn't doubt that he'd been shot through the heart. His vision was dimming around the edges, and he was aware of nothing but the growing puddle of liquid spreading beneath him, trickling past his face.

It was so cold, and so fast… as promised.

-/-

"Henry… Henry."

He opened his mouth to respond, a hand coming up to rub at his face. "What… the… uhh…" Henry felt stiff all over, finally opening his eyes to see Walter staring intently down at him. He blinked a few times, taking in the familiar room around him.

"Oh, God… it was a dream," he sighed in relief, sitting up to find that he was naked beneath to covers. That in itself was nothing unusual, considering he and Walter had…

Wait, why was his mind blank after that?

Walter gazed at him expectantly, looking almost apologetic.

Henry's heart-rate picked up, realisation beginning to dawn on him. "No…" he looked down at himself, searching for the numbers. If there were no numbers, he couldn't have died.

Walter lowered his head, wisely remaining silent.

"No, no… you didn't… I didn't…" Henry's voice gradually heightened in pitch as dread continued to seep into him. He lifted the covers and glanced down, blood running ice-cold as he looked upon his left inner thigh.

21121.

Henry dropped the covers again, his hand falling limply onto the mattress.

There was a long, heavy silence before Walter eventually looked up, leaning slightly towards Henry earnestly. "Henry…"

"You **bastard**," Henry yelled, jolted out of his shocked state by Walter's voice. He lunged forward and grabbed Walter's shoulders. "You **killed** me! Oh God, what about Eileen… you killed her…" the younger man sobbed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Is she dead…? Tell me…"

Walter was silent, but it said enough.

"Oh God," Henry groaned again, letting go of Walter. He lifted his knees and slumped onto them. "Oh… God…"

"Henry," Walter tried again, "It's okay now… it's over." He clasped his hands over each side of Henry's vacant face, pressing a gentle kiss against his slack mouth. "We can be together now, as promised."

"…This isn't happening…" Henry uttered in horrified denial, the reality of the situation refusing to sink in.

"You're finally mine, Henry… Don't worry. I'll make sure you're happy. Everything will be fine. You'll see," Walter went on softly, trying to soothe Henry with light kisses.

Henry finally made eye contact with the other man, staring wildly. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had been resurrected into a world where he was completely alone with Walter Sullivan, probably confined to room 302 as before.

What, exactly, had _changed_?

Eileen was gone… that seemed to be the only difference, and even thinking about it made his chest ache unbearably. All he could do was pray that she had died a painless death, but he knew such hopes were stupid, and nought but a pathetic and selfish attempt to make himself feel better.

Walter was still gazing at him lovingly, looking so pleased with everything that Henry almost wanted to laugh; So Walter was finally happy at the expense of 21 people.

What was left to do? He had no choice, not that he ever did. He wouldn't be able to escape, and what good what that do, anyway? There was only **one** thing to do, and that was to accept his fate.

Henry looked at Walter again. "…Make me happy."

~End


End file.
